The Venice file was enormous. More a rag-bag than a decent way of organising information, Zoe thought. She was pleased. This was what she was good at. She lost herself in archived magazine articles and forgot challenging Jay Christopher. Well, nearly.
She still knew who they meant when a voice above her head said, ‘I hear the Volcano has gone up again.’
She looked up.
Abby was standing by her desk with a tall, fierce-looking woman in an eye-hurting magenta leather catsuit.
‘Molly di Paretti,’ said the woman, holding out a hand.
At least she wasn’t another battling blonde, thought Zoe. She stood up and shook hands.
Molly di Paretti smiled and the ferocity disappeared. ‘Abby and I are off to hit Patisserie Pauline. Coming?’
Well, Jay had said he didn’t care what time she got in or left as long as she did her work. Presumably he did not care about expeditions in search of coffee, either.
‘Great,’ she said.
She saved her work and logged off without sitting down again. They went.
Patisserie Pauline turned out to be a small half-shop, with a bar along one wall and half a dozen marble-topped tables in its depths. It was full of the smell of coffee and warm pastry.
‘Bliss,’ said Molly.
‘You’re a carbohydrate junkie,’ said Abby amused.
‘Guilty.’
Zoe looked at the magenta catsuit and shook her head. ‘With a figure like that?’
‘I know,’ said Abby. ‘Life’s not fair.’
‘Look, I was heavy once. Then I lost it and learned to prioritise. One of Pauline’s brioches is worth giving up fish and chips for.’ Molly flicked an imperious finger at a round woman behind the counter. ‘The usual, Pauline. Plus one for the new member.’
She led the way to the back of the shop, where people were already seated at all the tables but one. It had a little reserved notice in the middle. Molly flicked it off and put it on the counter behind her. She sat down. Zoe was not entirely sure that the table had been reserved for them, though. Molly had the look of a rule-breaker. Zoe was envious.
‘Now,’ said Molly, purple elbows on the table, leaning forward. ‘Tell. What has he done with the body?’
Zoe recoiled, ‘Body?’
Abby intervened. ‘Molly’s distorted sense of humour,’ she explained. ‘She means your predecessor. Banana Lessiter.’
Zoe began to feel as if she had broken through into another dimension. ‘Banana?’
‘Barbara Lessiter. She called herself Banana.’ Molly was impatient. ‘What’s he done with her? She was still alive and lusting after him all over the office last Wednesday.’
‘I see.’ Zoe was suddenly enlightened. ‘That must be why he warned me against falling in love with him.’
‘He didn’t!’ The others stared at each other, between shock and amusement.
‘Yes, he did. It’s a dismissal matter, apparently. That must be what happened to—er—Banana.’
‘You’ve got to be right,’ agreed Molly. She whistled. ‘Wow. She really must have got him running scared.’
Zoe choked. ‘Scared? Jay Christopher? That’s a joke, right?’
Molly shook her head. ‘You have no idea. The man is—’
‘A good boss and an all-round decent guy,’ interrupted Abby reprovingly.
Molly was unrepentant. ‘Oh, sure. But he never lets a woman get too close, either. Come on, Abby, admit it. He cares more about his art collection than he does about his girlfriends.’
‘I don’t know any of his girlfriends.’
‘Well, you wouldn’t, would you? He just told Zoe. It’s the quickest way to get your cards.’
Zoe said slowly, ‘He said there was a no dating policy for the whole office. Not just him. Is that true?’
Molly pulled a face.
But Abby said, ‘Yes, there is. And I agree with it.’
‘Emotions will be left in the umbrella stand,’ muttered Molly.
Abby ignored her. ‘It takes the pressure off. You can break up with your boyfriend and not have to make a choice between seeing him at the next desk every morning or leaving your job. Which,’ she added tartly, ‘if you went through men as fast as Molly used to, is a definite plus.’